


Gingerbread

by Pizzypop



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cute, Eduardo is a manchild, Food, Hot Chocolate, It's July, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Snow, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Why am I writing Christmas in July, Winter, gingerbread cookies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 04:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15356376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizzypop/pseuds/Pizzypop
Summary: It's just tradition that Mark and Eduardo have. It's always a much happier time for them around the Christmas season- they're reminded that they have each other. This is just one night of the many they have during the homely month of December.(AKA- Mark and Eduardo make cookies)





	Gingerbread

The snow flurried outside the window, gently dancing in the wind. It made sweet movements, twirling and twisting gracefully, swirling downward to lay in a bed atop of the once green grass and roofs of many. White painted the neighborhood.

Frost crackled and grew, circling and growing. White and blue patterns glazed over the clear panes of the cozy house. Beautiful designs filled the window, gorgeous whirls circling and branching out like a crackled peppermint.

Inside of the home resided two members of a family, an orange glow bidding the dark out. A familiar and calming warmth grew through the quaint green home, enwrapping both residents in a lovely snug feeling.

Decorations lined the walls. Tinsel and a long string of lights framed the frozen-over windows, lighting up the room even more with a brighter emotion of togetherness- family. Something they have been tugged away from them for so long.

In the corner of the living room was a tall tree, stocked with all sorts of decoration and ornaments. Bulbs of reds and whites hung free, white tinsel mimicking the snow resting gently on the branches. It sat right next to the fireplace, mixing the scents of the burning fire and the pine of the tree. It was a wonderful smell of the season.

The holiday always brought the family closer together. It was one of the only days of the year that they could calm down and get along, all just happy to be alive. They were all so glad to be there with each other. It was the time to celebrate their unity, their friendship, their bond.

It was tradition. Something that they couldn’t ever live without. The couch decorations were stored away and replaced with new ones to fit the occasion. A red blanket with a snow pattern draped over it, while the throw pillows held the same pattern.

An unspoken law was written between the two remaining housemates. Every year, they would always spend their time baking. They would always make new desserts whenever they would run out, all Christmas themed. At no time would they do it themselves- no, it was always together.

Sometimes, the neighbors would come by to visit. Ever since the accident, the tension was lifted from the air. It’s what Jon would have wanted- for everyone to be friends. Occasionally, they would visit. They would chat, have some desserts, then leave.

Christmas always brought everyone together. It’s just how the holiday works.

“Here, let me help.”

Mark’s voice interrupted your work. You were just trying to roll the dough for the cookies. It’s something you’ve always had trouble with- it always tore! And, on top of that, it stuck to the table! It’s not your fault it’s so hard!

“I got it…” You grumbled the lie with a small grin, doing your best to knead the dough.

The blonde rolled his eyes, “Eduardo, please. You’re making a mess.” He snickered and moved the shorter one’s hands away, gently taking up the ginger dough and moving it to the side.

He sprinkled flour over the cutting board before plopping the cookie dough back down in the center, flattening it out with his hands.

“See what happens when you just accept help?” Your housemate jested, making you snortle a bit, wiping your hands off on your already dirtied Christmas-themed apron.

“Well, I guess I just have to learn the same lesson every year!” The sound of soft laughter mingled with the Christmas tunes that escaped through the radio, livening up the kitchen even more than it already was.

Mark went back to working on the icing, watching you with a side-glance as you sloppily flattened out the dough, dipping the cookie cutter in the flour as you were instructed earlier.

The sharp utensil made a clean cut through the delicious-smelling food, creating a cute shape in it. Once creating enough cookies- trying to cut them as evenly as possible- you moved them away from the cutting board and onto the cookie sheet to be put into the oven.

“Eduardo,” You heard your name, turning your head to look at the source.

You snickered a bit and gently placed a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh. It looked like Mark had somehow messed up while trying to mix the icing, getting powdered sugar all over his face, hair, and apron. His expression was priceless.

“Here, why- Why don’t you go and take a shower. I’ll put the cookies in the oven.”

“Don’t burn them.”

“Just go-!” You jokingly hit him with a washcloth, enjoying as he stalked off to the bathroom with a smile on his face. He’d be back soon.

Taking a breath, you gently shook your head and slid the pans into the oven, glad that it happened on the last pan and not the first. You set the timer and got to work on the hot chocolate.

When it came to hot chocolate, you liked to cheat. Unlike the things you like to bake with mark, your hot chocolate is close to being just store-bought.

The way mark made it was just so bland and bitter- it was hardly even hot chocolate! That would just not do. If your pudgy body type was to tell, you definitely did not like anything that was only a smidge under sweet. So, you had to cheat. It was the only way to get it to taste at least somewhat good! Mark never noticed, so what’s the harm?

You boiled the water easily. In the microwave a large container of water went. The stove wasn’t the only thing that could heat up water. Plus- that took too long!

Once the water was hot enough, you took it out and poured it into two mugs, plucking four packets of hot chocolate from your super secret stash. You had to hide it! Otherwise, Mark would find out!

You pour two packets into each mug, stirring it together with a fork. Now, it’s time to make it your own. A sprinkle of cinnamon, a dash of nutmeg. A cap of milk was added, then a tall pile of whipped cream, all stirred together with a candy cane.

Oh- how could you forget the final touch? Reaching into the fridge- with a smidge of difficulty- you nabbed the chocolate syrup and added a drizzle into each mug.

And, with a final stir, you got rid of the evidence and heard Mark opening the bathroom door.

“Do I smell hot chocolate?” He asked as he entered the kitchen, already having changed into his pajamas- a top and pants set, both red, with a chicken on the front of his shirt wearing a santa hat. With a small ‘thanks,’ he took a sip from his mug.

It seemed to only be roughly three minutes before the timer chimed, alerting the two that their gingerbread cookies had finally finished baking. You both looked at each other before setting down your drinks, getting out both the icing and the oven mitt.

You reached into the oven and pulled out both pans of cookies. They looked amazing and smelled of gingerbread. Well- that’s what they are. Gingerbread men. Your mouth was already watering just smelling them, but you shook your head.

“Can we start icing them now?” You asked impatiently.

“No- they need to cool.”

“Mark-”

“Eduardo.”

You huffed and slightly pouted, rolling your eyes and folding your arms over your chest.

“Fine- I can wait.” You gave in, leaning against the counter and cupping your mug with both hands.

You and Mark chatted for a bit while sipping at your drinks, just waiting for the cookies to cool down. You didn’t want to put them in the fridge- you had no space. Nor the freezer- Mark said they’d get hard to eat.

So, you just had to wait patiently. The smell was tantalizing, the cookies were almost taunting you to take a bite, just a nibble. But, for Mark, you held yourself back. You can wait!

Finally, it was time to frost the cookies.

You set half of them on a plate for yourself to frost and half on another plate for Mark to frost. Your men were decorated sloppily, squiggles of greens and whites filling up as much space as you could, using some sprinkles for buttons and eyes.

Mark, on the other hand, was taking his time. He used as many colours as he could, blending purples with blues, greens, and of course- white. His sprinkles were expertly chosen for the buttons and eyes.

In the end, Mark’s cookies were far superior. But, that’s alright. You both had fun while making them, so who cares if your gingerbread men looked like they were all wearing parkas and were made by a second grader?

Late into the night, they sat together on the couch, curled up in front of the fireplace. Mark had made himself a traditional mug of bitter, foul-tasting hot chocolate. You, on the other hand, had a cup of milk. Dipping your cookies in the white, creamy drink before munching on them, you took a calm breath.

That’s how you fell asleep most nights during the Christmas season. Sitting next to Mark, some sort of dessert in your hand. The calming aura around you lulled you to sleep, resting softly and without a care in the would you had most other days of the year.

Sighing as he watched you fall asleep, Mark stood up and moved to put his mug- and your cup- in the sink. He smiled at the fond memory he made that night, snickering softly to himself. He always knew that your hot chocolate was made from a packet- he could see them in the trash.

But, he decided not to tell you. It was more fun that way- for him to pretend not to know, for him to see your excited face as he complimented the all-too-sweet chocolatey drink.

That night, he decided to sleep on the couch as well. Why not? It was his- and your- makeshift bed a lot of the time, so it wouldn’t hurt him any, would it?

With the smell of pine, chocolate, and gingerbread thick in the air, Mark had been pulled into dreamland as well, breathing calmingly evening out as he fell into a nice dream.

It was like this every Christmas and you would never have it any other way.


End file.
